


Morning Glory

by Scornful_truth



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, It's flower seaason, It'sa little poetic, M/M, Okay it'sa lotta poetic, dream death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 14:18:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scornful_truth/pseuds/Scornful_truth
Summary: You made Flowersgrow in my LungsAnd although theyare beautiful,I can't breathe.





	Morning Glory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snowy_Snowflake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy_Snowflake/gifts).



> Morning Glories are pretty flowers owo

_You, are my Morning Glory._

_My soft smile when I first wake up, littering my heart and mind. Making it so hard to forget your color. That gorgeous color. The one that shines when the sun hits you with the early sky’s dew. Moisture that rolls off your gentle touch. That so easily bruises and punctures._

It was one cough, one that was wet and dry. Another inhale and cough. And the culprit flutters out. It’s light, and floats down. Gracefully landing into the hands I never let anyone hold. One look, one fact, and my fate is sealed with a harsh crimson stamp to death's door. I wonder, just how painful it would feel… to keep the love I selfishly harbor.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

_You bloom and die in one fell swoop. Your flower takes the breath away of thousands, but to my breath you only but stole. Slowly you suck it from me until you steal its last. Your vines weaved its way into the lonely garden of my heart and wrapped around my cold nights. Watching your confidence come and go like your bloom. That beautiful bloom I selfishly wish to keep. Your smile and glow is just as invasive as my space to you._

Another petal, or two. Being thrown into air by another forced cough. With each soft papery thin petal that floats down to earth, is another month of my life being stripped away. The pain is little, but you come to invade my thoughts no less. The pain can only grow from here. I wish you looked at me like the way you look at her. Then you wouldn’t be killing me. Just for one moment, could you stop being beautiful? Stop being so kind? Because my weak lungs can’t handle it…

_You, are my Morning Glory._

_A flower, said to represent September… soon represented you. That month so many years ago when you graced this world with your talent, your presence, your smile. You represent my affection, you stand as my proof that I can love. That I can be a new person without the heavy stained sins of my past weighing down on my tainted soil. The soil you chose to grow in. Your seed was planted by mistake, but it’s too hard to remove the roots now… because I don’t wish to forget you were ever there._

The pain would shoot up my chest, first time for everything and even I doubled over in a sudden dry heave. Followed by many flower petals, wet, sticky, warm flower petals tumbled from my dry untouched lips. The sweet metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. It mixed with the overwhelming amount of petals. It was the longest attack yet. Hunched over the toilet bowl, it felt worse than any stomach bug. It was searing pain in my lungs that burned me inside and out. The awful hacking sound filled my head, too bad I couldn’t get away from the disgusting wrenching noise. It came from me. Blood dribbled down my chin as I reached for a towel I designated for this occasion. Something deep inside me told me that it would only get worse.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

_The one I only beg to come and save me. To rip me from the agony you so caringly gave. I was too weak to handle it. It aches to know it also means unrequited love. By how quickly life was acquired and how… oh so quickly it dies. Love at first sight only to happened to one side and not two. Yet, known far back for thousands of years… The flower, used to make medicines and brought to ceremonies. If only you could heal my breaking body. That trembles and weakens at the mere thought of you._

I try my best to except the fact that I’m dying. Dying. It’s hard to just take in. As much it was easy to take in the sickening sour taste of the flowers juice; that left residue on my tongue. Lying, Dying, Lying, Dying… the only thing I seemed to be good at. Another wave comes barreling up my throat and it’s hard not to cry as I cough up what I can’t keep down. These tears...I picture you wiping away, but that only brings me more pain. That pain erupted into another onslaught of flowers. Killing me. It’s killing me. “Stop…” I beg, “Just make it stop…” But it won’t. It won’t, and I’ll die like this.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

_Rumor has it that you could possibly extract a liquid from your tuffs and use to create a drug. A drug many would pay for, sell for, use for. You were my drug. You are, my drug. Something that tastes so sweet but only hurts me in the end. I’m addicted to it. I don’t have the heart to remove your roots that grows around me, in one last hug that I’ll gladly die in._

Full flowers fall from my mouth as I heave more. Blood is coming in great amounts and I’m powerless against it. Late night, it’s a late night and I wake up in horrid coughing from a dream you were in. You caressed my cheek and kissed me the way I longed for. You held your hands around my waist and whispered in my ear that you loved me. Such a sick dream. Only for me to wake up and stumble into my bathroom, just to throw up your flowers again. Full flowers. It’s not a good sign. My limbs shake from the sudden attack, I sink to the floor, not caring if in my own mess of blood and flowers. The knives in my lungs won’t go away. I whimper until I fall asleep again. Cold and unloved. Just how I’ll die.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

_Your brilliant blue bed of soft welcoming flowers is what I’ll die in. With the middle of the star shaped flower, a yellow shade, to match those eyes I yearn to stare into. If only you didn’t mean the love was in vain. The painstaking truth of my mortality. The restricted love that is blocked by my cowardliness. The exact meaning behind you…. A beautiful latin word Ipomoea. Meaning worm and homolas. Boiling down to the translation of wormlike. It speaks of your growth. The flower does grow fast. It wraps around my lungs in deep constricting pains. Full of heavy muscle contractions that I wish would go away_.

It hurts, and it brings be tears made of pain to my empty eyes. I smell like flowers and blood. It’s such a powerful oder that I don’t want to see anyone anymore. Not when attacks are coming so often. I cry harder knowing my time is almost coming to an end, even when I wanted to do so much more. My quiet cries turn to sobs. My weak frame trembles under the tears as I spit out the flowers that stuck to my tongue. I think of him, how he would feel when they find my body littered in flowers. Another sharp stab to my chest and I gasp this time. Breathing was no longer an easy feat. I lean over the sink throwing up the full blooms. They had stems now, and stems that connected with other flowers… My shoulders shake under my weight. I’m in so much pain. Why can’t it end.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

_Some say the Restricted love meaning comes from two lovers back way when. They fell in love on one day and neglected all else just to be with one another. The gods apparently were displeased with them, so they were only allowed to meet one day a year. On they day they fell in love. I wonder if you’ll visit my grave once a year. On the day I died. Where a beautiful patch of flowers would grow every once a year. On the day I fell for you._

The blood pours from my mouth. It burns when it shoots up my throat, I choke every time. The flowers were getting too big and I couldn’t get them out. I often reach back to yank them out, but it hurts too much. I gag and rip it up my sore throat. The leaves and stem scratches my windpipe and I’m left crying again. I didn’t want to die. I really, really didn’t want to die. But I didn’t want to get rid of the only proof that I could love. I didn’t want to forget him. My legs give out on me as I fall again to the floor. Too light headed to stand. I say his name in my head and try to mutter it out with my own raspy torn voice. Even though I know it will bring pain—which it does the following seconds when I begin to choke on a big flower—I say it anyway, because it brought me some comfort.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

_The stems can be up to eight inches long, and I feel you wrapping around me. Constricting me like a snake might do to snuff out the life of it’s victim. You… you and your color betray my love. Yet I know it’s not your fault. Blue means trust. It means respect and deep emotion. And you have deep emotion. I can see it in your golden true eyes. Blue means you are trustworthy. And… I’m willing to trust that._

I wish to see you one more time. Even though I know it’s goodbye. I shower and try to rub the blood from my face. I slather on soaps and shampoos to cover up the flower smell, only to give up realizing who I was trying to fool. Surly not myself. Not them. Not him. I take in a shaky and pained breath. I dressed in darker clothes, to hide any blood that might escape my mouth. I knew where he would be. I would die a coward if I at least didn’t tell him. For the first time in months, I'm outside. It’s a beautiful day that I’m not able to enjoy. I see him with her, out in the open, in an empty park that looked perfect with him standing in it.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

He saw me, and I couldn’t help but collapse in humiliating helplessness. Of course he worried and hurried over to me, with her confused and looking worried as well. I must have looked so horrible in front of him. Sickly pale, horribly skinny, exhausted looking. Dead looking. I looked up at him through unclear eyes. I didn’t notice the blood dripping down my chin. The drips managed to squeeze by my tightly sealed lips, that caged flowers that surely would explain it all.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

But with one final sharp agonizing pain, my anguish boiled over and I cried. I cried in front of him with flowers spilling to the grass floor. For him to see. I felt so pathetic, so worthless, so besides myself. Everything hurt. He was trying to ask me who. He was shaking my shoulders, trying to ask me who it was. I cried harder. I couldn’t say. I couldn’t break the fragile mind the petals represented so well. I was fading, I was fading so fast. I sucked in the air harshly, rasping out the only words I could muster. “-Y-You...Yo-You-” I coughed again, the flowers didn’t come out. They were lodged inside my throat and I couldn’t breath.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

I wanted to say it. The words that were so true before I died… I coughed and wracked my body to get them out, to allow me to say just 3 more words. I hacked them up when the other roughly hit my back. While she was phoning someone. “I-I-I...love yo-you! I-It’s-s you!” I yelled feebly. The pain of rejection swelled in my chest and I felt the roots yank. Another tug at my lungs and it started squishing them into nothing. “O-Ouma…” The other looked at me with such pity. I knew he didn’t love me back, I cried for that reason, and that reason alone. “I-I’m sorry! I-I-I’m so—" Another wave of flowers crashed against my chest and rolled up to spill through my lips. “—I-I sh-shouldn’t of! I-I di-didn’t me-mean—” I coughed so roughly that I was sure every organ would uproot itself.

_You, are my Morning Glory._

Sirens, sirens that belonged to an ambulance came. “S-Sai-Saihara...!” I weakly called out. They didn’t understand. They wouldn’t help. A doctor would only remove my love. “I...I…” The other was so conflicted. I grabbed onto him. “Pl-Please…. Ju-just let m-me die… if y-you don’t lo-love me back!” Heavy blood spilt from my mouth and I gagged. It was so disgusting. I was going to pass out before he’d answer… they might remove the roots by then. “You don’t understand Ouma, I-I…”

_You, are my Morning Glory._

It was too late. For whatever he was going to say. My sobs immediately quieted with the numbness in my chest. The beating of my heart stopped. I couldn’t feel it. “S-...Sai…” It wasn’t working, my heart wasn’t beating. My weak grip slipped from him and I fell to the ground facing the sky. The painful convulsing of my body violently jolting when trying to get it back to breathing, it was trying to work without the crucial beat of my heart. But I was choking without realizing it. Hands were on my chest, trying to keep me alive. But I was slipping away. “I-I love you too!” The other cried. They took my head in their shaking hands. “I l-love y-you so much! P-Please don’t leave me! Please… stay, stay, just stay…”

But there was no stay. As much as I begged the world to let me breathe a little longer- my consciousness was sucked away into a pit of darkness.

 

In one painful, agonizing last breath.

 

 

_….You, are my Morning Glory._

_You, were my Morning Glory._

_You, are still my Morning Glory._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_..._

I blinked dreary eyes awake. I rubbed them tiredly and yawned. There was a gentle breathing sound that softly brushed against my face. The room temperature seemed cold, but under the blanket it was warm and cozy. “...Kokichi?” A tired and worried voice sounded in my ears. “...mm?” I shift, realizing now where I was exactly. I turn towards him.

Our noses practically touched when facing each other. The slight crack in the window where sunlight forced its way to peer into our room was creeping further along the floor. Making its way to his hair that would shine in its rays. In a messy ocean of beautiful blues with golden fish swimming as his eyes. “...Do you remember what happened last night?” He asked softly. His voice rolling over into my mind like wind grazing the tops of wheat as it swept through the open field of my heart. I cherished the sound and drank in every second of the way his voice cracked in the too early air.

I move just a little closer, bringing my forehead to his lips which he kissed. “...not really.” I say, my short answer was lined with a small giggle. Imagining all the things that could’ve went down. “...You had another nightmare.” I frown as I direct my eyes to stare into his. I never would get tired of looking into those eyes. Those eyes that couldn’t match any other look of affection. “...I died. In that one. You didn’t make it in time.” I remembered now. I spoke with slight hurt, not bothering to cover it up. It forced me to picture what it would of happen truly if I hadn’t lived through it. Of course the thought was depressing.

“...But I made it in time, didn’t I? In reality, I mean.” His sweet, gentle voice reminded me of all those nights spent awake. Picking out the non bloodied petals and flowers. I felt each one with care as if I was holding him. The petals were so delicate. Just as soft as his skin was. I couldn’t help but trace kisses down his neck, so soft and gentle like the way he held me. So easily bruised and punctured like his heart when he saw me on the brink of death. “Yes… yes you did. But even if you did make it in time and the hanahaki is gone....” It felt so long ago, but it’s only been a couple weeks.

The sun finally hit his hair and it shone in the best of ways. I reached up to brush the loose strands of his silky hair behind his ear that listened to all my cries. I found his hands that held me when I was at my lowest, with scars of roots that stretched across my damaged lungs. I giggle, not because something was funny. But because Shuichi was everything I ever wanted. I kissed his soft lips that whispered sweet nothings to me while I healed from the scars. He kissed back with as much softness. His hand finding its way back to my hair, running his hands through my purple locks. It’s always felt good to feel his fingers gently run through my hair.

I break the kiss, I promise secretly to continue it later. I stare instead, up at him. At the boy I always wished to wake up next to.

“You…” I giggle, “...Are still forever my Morning Glory.”

 


End file.
